Ruled By Secrecy
by Pheonyxia
Summary: 1905, the socialites of Manhattan are once again plunged into a world of secrecy, betrayal and scandal.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue.

1905, New York. In the late dusk light, the elites of Manhattan closed their doors to the wind and darkness of Autumn. The people still out on the streets walked at a fast pace, glancing about them as they went. You could never be too careful when out after dark. Who knows who might be lurking in the seedy streets or in or behind buildings and dustbins? If one was to stop at the halfway point between 5th and Madison Avenue at half-past six, they might see the silhouette of a young woman.

Carolina Broud was leaning dangerously far over the edge of a balcony on top of one of the most famous houses in Manhattan. Her hands gripped the rail with a brutal ferocity and her eyes were fierce but in spite of the hard exterior, her mind and soul were in turmoil. There was a little wrought - iron gate that provided an escape from the confines of the balcony rail. She opened the latch on the gate, stepped through and clicked it shut behind her. Clinging to the rail she took precarious steps along the narrow strip of tiles on the very edge of the eaves.

Looking down the many stories to the hard street below, Lina could see the whole city. Lights sparkled and shone as the sun disappeared and darkness descended. Lina's heart nearly jumped from her chest in anticipation and fright, but she was here now and she had made herself a promise. She looked once back at the lights in the house, then down to the ground and lastly up at the sky above her, as if she was reminding herself that she was actually here.

She closed her eyes and turned her back to the lights, her hands still tight around the rail behind her. She took a long, deep breath and brought one of her hands to her side. Leaning forward, she opened her eyes, released her hold on the rail and dissolved her ties to reality.


	2. Chapter 2

Penny's POV

The late afternoon sun was shining into the parlour where Penelope slouched lazily on a cream coloured chaise. Life was so dull nowadays, no excitement or gossip to enliven her days. She lived for the times when she had been the young, beautiful Queen of society. Of course, she was still very well known and respected, but she felt that she was not quite so well respected as she used to be.

From the room next door, Penelope could hear the sound of Keller and little Charles, playing. Keller was the child of her dear friend, Elizabeth Cutting. Penelope knew that the child was not Mr Cutting's offspring, but the result of Elizabeth's first marriage to the low-life coach driver, William Keller. Penelope sometimes feared for the welfare of her own child when he was in the company of Keller, for as you know, a son always follows in his father's footsteps. A son…there was once a time when Penelope would rather have died than have children. Admittedly, her marriage to Henry Schoonmaker had not been a happy one and maybe if the circumstances had been different she may have thought otherwise.

Charles was the spitting image of his father. His skin was a tawny colour that suggested many days in the sun. His nose, broad but not so broad as to be considered unrefined, was slightly too large for his face but that would change as he grew older.

Penelope had not seen Henry in some months. She had been out with the occasional man but no one wanted a wife with a child of five years from a previous marriage. It would be considered beneath a man to make such a proposal.

Penelope looked towards the ceiling and sighed. This was not how her life was supposed to turn out. She was Penelope Hayes; she had been the most influential woman in Manhattan, her best friend had been the perfect Elizabeth Holland and she had completed her dearest dream – a marriage to Henry Schoonmaker. She had; the use of the past tense was like a blow to the head, she was a has-been.

She influenced nobody these days. Nobody would rush to read the gossip columns in hope of finding a new piece of news about the beautiful Miss Hayes. Nobody would care that she had once been the best friend of Miss Holland. Marrying Henry, that was certainly an achievement, but she wasn't married to him anymore. He ran off to Paris to be with that little slut, Diana Holland. It was all her fault. If that little curly haired siren hadn't seduced Henry, everything would have been absolutely perfect. But everything was not perfect and Penelope Hayes was stuck in a beautiful house, surrounded by her staff and her beautiful son and living a life that was slowly killing her. She was completely alone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hi, sorry this chapter's a day late. I have been away for a few days and didn't have access to the Internet. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Comments and feedback would be greatly appreciated so I would love it if you left a review. Thanks **

Waves crashed and the wind blew as Diana Holland stood at the top of a magnificent cliff face, looking out at the ocean. Her long curls blew softly around her face, giving the illusion of a land–bound Mermaid, yearning to once more dive beneath the waves to the cool, silent world beneath. In her hand, she clutched a letter and in the other, a turquoise bracelet.

She had come up here to throw both objects into the sea. This was much easier said than done and Di couldn't quite bring herself to let go.

"Mademoiselle Diana, do you wish to go home"? Called out the taxi chauffeur.

Home, thought Di. Was this really home? The last five years in France had flown by like a dream. She had left Manhattan to get away from her old life, away from Henry. She had left with the promise of adventure coursing through her veins like a drug. She had travelled all over France, meeting new people, working small jobs and living on the thought that sometime in the future, everything would be normal again. Di had begun to feel tired, not just lightly tired, as though she had endured a long day, but bone deep weariness. She realized now, that she had been running. Running almost non–stop for five years, but running from what? Nobody in France had ever heard of young Diana Holland; the girl who went outside without her hat, who read romance novels and who broke the heart of the playboy, Henry Schoonmaker.

She turned her back to the sea and climbed into the black, shiny taxi. Once back in her apartment, she decided that she would pack away her life in Paris and move back to Manhattan.

On her way out the door her hand brushed against an object in her coat pocket, the bracelet. Damn, she's meant to dispose of that, it held too many painful memories, but it could get her some money. She could go down to the pawnshop and sell it before she left, yes she would do that.

The streets were buzzing with people. Lovers; their hands entwined. Businessmen, their suits reflecting their well groomed personalities. Young women, on their way back home from day with their closest friends. Their faces flushed and the mind replaying the day, dwelling on new purchases. The middle of the day was always the busiest and Di would usually be amongst the throng, but today she walked with determination and clarity in her decisions.

The shop was one she had passed many times without the thought of entering. A bell tinkled as she opened the door and her eyes were met with the sight of a vast array of possessions, sold by many in countless different undoubtedly desperate situations. Her thoughts were interrupted by a voice behind the counter.

"Can I help you Mademoiselle?"

"Oh yes. I would like to sell a piece of jewellery".

She bought out the bracelet and set it on the counter. The man picked it up to examine it closely.

"I can give you $50", replied the sales person.

"$60", argued Di, her heartbeat quickening with the thought of parting with an object so full of beautiful memories.

"Done"! Agreed the man.

He opened the register and handed her the money. Diana held it carefully in a gloved hand before depositing the newfound money in her purse.

"Thankyou", she murmured before opening the door and stepping out onto the street.

She was just getting on her way when a darkly dressed youth bolted past, snatching her purse.

"Hey, come back here", yelled Di indignantly.

Dammit, and just when she acquired some money, it was stolen. She sighed, held her skirts in one hand and her hat in the other as she began running after the thief. She rounded a corner and ran straight into a young man carrying a camera and tripod.

"God, I'm sorry", spoke the young man. Hastily putting down both the camera and tripod to steady her.

"That's fine", gasped Diana, "but someone just stole my purse. I must catch him".

She dodged past the man, but he grabbed her arm and ran after the thief himself.

Di ran after him and turned into the street he had entered to see the young photographer with her purse in one hand and the collar of the thief in the other. The boy struggled against the grip on shirt and escaped, running past her and out of sight.

Di put a hand on the arm of her saviour, who was bent over, gasping for air.

"Here, he rasped. Your purse, I'm sorry he got away".

"It's fine", smiled Di. "Thankyou for going after him. I'm Diana Holland".

She held out her hand and smiled as the young man gently lifted it to his lips.

"Enchanteé, Mademoiselle Diana. I am Sébastien Laroche, at your service.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hi, here is the chapter three. Please read and enjoy. Feedback would also be greatly appreciated **

**xx Thanks. **

"Scull! Scull! Scull! Scull!"

Henry Schoonmaker, hanging on the arms of at least three beautiful young women, was downing his third drink in record time. He slammed the empty glass onto the counter of the bar and staggered into the waiting crowd. Cheer erupted as he tripped and fell face–first to the floor. He rolled on to his back and stared at the room above him with a dazed grin on his face.

The music was whirling and people had started to dance, not the structured, polite, ballroom dancing as practiced in balls and parties he knew, but wild, powerful dancing. Full with lewd movements that would make even a call–girl blush. How his family would act if they knew where he was, he could never guess.

Saloon girls and tipsy can-can dancers stumbled past in a cloud of tobacco smoke and beer. The men, the girls' responsibility for the night, were completely wasted and could just barely conceal the hungry looks, evident in their eyes and roaming hands.

Henry spent what felt like eternity in the middle of the floor, confused but happy. He could feel his brain clouding, and his vision slowly dimming. The lights, music, and laughter all faded away as his head came to rest on the ground and he became lost in the sea of consciousness.

The fog cleared as Henry slowly sat up and looked blearily around him. Cream coloured sheets, golden walls, a wooden dresser; covered with jewellery, powder-brushes and perfume bottles. Scattered over the floor were clothes. A stocking, high-heeled shoes, his shirt and cuffs, a lacy undergarment… He slowly turned his gaze to the space beside him. A bare back and shoulders were visible above the tops of the sheets, black curls spread on the pillow like a fan. He smiled as he began to remember the later half of his night. Hell, she was an absolute goddess. He reached put, lifted a stray curl from her face and ran a finger over her cheek. She smiled, still half a sleep and reached a hand up to rest on his bare, sculpted chest. The early morning light filtered through the gauzy curtains, and glinted off something on her hand, off a shiny, gold, wedding band.

"Fuck", swore Henry under his breath in surprise.

How could he be so stupid? This woman was married. The thought struck something in him. It was something new, exciting; he'd never had an affair with a married woman before. No, dammit! It can't be exciting, he couldn't even consider continuing this affair. It would be wrong, so wrong… but he couldn't just leave her, with no goodbye or explanation. He could just stay for one day. What harm could come of that…?

Her name was Marielle, and after one unforgettable day, he was in love. She was everything, and more. She was passionate, but serene. Strong, but trusting. She was just like him, but still different in so many ways. The day had passed in a blur of excitement and laughter. There were moments when Henry believed himself to be the happiest man in the world. He was the King of the universe, he had a beautiful, amazing woman by his side and nothing, not even her husband, was going to stop him. He had tried to ask her about his husband of hers, Lewis, but as much as he tried, she would give no answers.

"Henry… Henry!" A voice suddenly awoke him from his reverie.

"Mmm… uhh… I'm sorry darling, what were you saying?"

"I was asking you if you would accompany me to the opera tonight. Since Lewis is away for the weekend and it would be so _terribly_ dull to go with some dim-witted, overeager, young bore – for that is how it would be you know. God, the things we women must do to preserve our reputation, even after marriage. Will it never end?"

Marielle spoke with a bored tone as she crossed the room to sit across Henry's lap. She twined her arms around his neck and turned her face up to his and kissed him sweetly.

Henry smiled and briefly pulled his lips from hers.

"Your wish is my command" he spoke with mock seriousness.

She smiled, evidently pleased and gently pulled his head down to kiss him once more.

That night at the opera, Henry could feel the curious looks of the people around him. He could sense them. Conversing in hushed whispers. Pulling aside their black velvet drapes to try to glimpse the couple that was causing so much stir. No doubt there would be an article in the gossip columns the next day. Speculating whether or not a certain pairing seen at the opera the previous evening, would be the dawn of a new scandal.

Marielle was a sight to behold in a dress the colour of the night-sky. The dark blue beautifully emphasised the lightness of her complexion and the jet of her hair. The low neckline was adorned with tiny, intricate diamonds. They would hardly be visible but for the light reflecting off them, throwing patterns and shadows over the skin of her shoulders, throat and arms. She was like the night sky; mysterious, beautiful, courageous and Henry was her dark knight. Together, they could enchant the country.


	5. Chapter 5

Pretty things had always been like sugar to Carolina, but somewhat unattainable. Until five years ago, Lina had been a maid. She had been a maid to the Holland family.

She was now living with her sister, Claire. Claire had always been the shyer of the two and even now, with money to spend on pretty dresses and jewellery, she was still conservative and shy. Lina tried to bring her out of her shell by introducing her to society and taking her to parties, where rich men would dance with them and flirt with them, making them feel like they were the most important girls in Manhattan, in the world, but most of it was all a beautiful dream. Shattering when the lights dimmed, the voices were silent and Lina was sitting alone in her room with no fixed place in society. She was an invisible stranger in her own world.

What she really needed was a distraction, she had been too long in one place, and she wanted adventure. She could take Claire to Paris, or the Mediterranean. It would be a very welcome change, a chance to get away from here past… Her past! She could go and live out west. Five years ago, when she emerged from the slums and planted herself into the hearts and minds of society, she had told them she was an heiress from Utah. Her father had been the head of a copper-smelting company and when he and her mother died, he left her a great fortune. None of it was true but she could make it real, at least for herself. Her face lit up with enthusiasm and expectancy, she must tell Claire! Rushing through he door onto the landing, she looked down into the foyer below and called her beloved sister's name.

"Claire, Claire! Come quickly!"

A petite redhead came running up the stairs, worry clouding her features.

"Lina, whatever is the matter? Are you all right? Good heavens, you gave me quite a shock."

"I've had an idea Claire! We're going away from Manhattan, away to the oil fields out West. It will be such an adventure. Just imagine the warm sun, blue skies, open fields, freedom…"

"Good Heavens Lina", interrupted Claire. "Are you completely out of your mind? We can't just leave. Besides, where will we stay, how will we live. I don't think there are hotels in Utah."

Lina's face fell. "Oh, I had not thought of that…" Her brow creased in thought. "Oh but I'm sure somebody will give us a room. We have plenty of money and could pay them well; besides, everyone says that the people there have hearts the size of America. I'm sure they will be kind and wonderful! We must start packing straight away. We can leave tomorrow; the train leaves at eight o'clock. Please Claire, just for me, just for a few weeks."

"Oh all right", grinned Claire. "For you".

"All aboard!" The driver blew as whistle as the train came into the station.

Lina and Claire picked up their bags and hurried towards the opening doors of the train. They handed their tickets to the Ticketmaster to be checked and went inside to find their compartment. They received quite a few strange looks, which they put down to the fact that they were two young women travelling alone.

The journey lasted two days, with all meals on board and the train not stopping once. It was all over in a blur and soon the sisters were standing on the platform, watching the train moving away. There were not many people at the station and Lina felt very much exposed among those few strangers. The picked up their bags and headed towards town.

Walking up the main street, Lina felt very much out of place in her tailored travelling dress and with her expensive nag. Lina usually love attention, she live for the envious looks of people on the streets of Manhattan, but not here. Here, she felt as if the people were accusing her of something, as of they knew who she was, what she'd done.

They walked into the general store to inquire about lodgings. Looking around her, Lina had never seen so much food in one place in her entire life. When she had been working for the Hollands she had never been the one buying or preparing food. There were shelves and shelves of everything imaginable. Flour, eggs, potatoes, fruit and jam… everything.

"Can I help ya Miss?" Asked a shop-boy next to her.

"Yes, thankyou. We are staying here for a little while and we are in need of a place to stay. Is there a hotel around?" Lina looked expectantly at the boy who was looking at her in surprise.

"There ain't no hotel Miss, but I'm sure the Steytons will put you up for few days. They'll be sure to have a spare room or two. I can take ya there if ya like?"

"That would be greatly appreciated", smiled Lina.

The shop-boy tipped his hat and proceeded to lead them out the door and towards a large house opposite the store. He knocked on the door and a middle-aged woman with her apron and hair covered in flour opened it.

"How do you do Mrs Steyton? These beautiful young ladies are looking for somewhere to stay for a while. I told them that you might ne able to give 'em a room for a little while."

"Of course, of course, come along in, I'll get Val to help you with your bags."

Mrs Steyton cupped her hands around her mouth and yelled in a most un-ladylike manner:

"Val, come down here, we need your help with a few bags!"

She beckoned them in and Lina peered into the house, curious to see what the house was like on the inside.

"So, where are you young ladies from, may I ask?"

Lina tore her eyes from the interior and faced the woman.

"Oh, my name is Carolina Broad, you can call me Lina, and this is my sister, Claire. We're from Manhattan."

"Well Lina, Claire, I hope you will have a wonderful stay in Utah, but where are my manners, you must be hungry and tired, please come and have something to eat."

But Lina wasn't listening anymore. All she could see was the young man bounding down the stairs. He was quite tall, maybe six-one, six-two. He had reddish-blonde hair, golden eyes and tanned, brown skin.

"Oh Val, there you are. Can you take those bags upstairs; by the way, this is Miss Lina and Miss Claire Broad. They're visiting from Manhattan."

"Very nice to meet you ladies. What brings you to Utah?"

"Come, on Val, give them a chance to catch their breath. Come and have something to eat."

Lina smiled. "Thankyou Mrs Steyton, you are so very kind."

"Oh it's no trouble at all, and call me Stella. Everyone knows everyone on this town, it will be good to have some new faces around, and we don't get many visitors. I'm sure you'll cause quite a stir."

Lina breathed out in exhaustion. She was here at last and for the first time in her life she was truly relaxed and at home. It was going to be an adventure.


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's the new chapter. I would love reviews! Enjoy! **

The typewriter clicked furiously under Di's fingers. When inspiration hit her, it was hard for her fingers to keep up with her thoughts.

Looking around the half-packed apartment she smiled in bemusement. She would have left, just like that. The thought that one single, simple idea could control her so completely terrified Di. Looking back the ribbon in the typewriter she smiled again, a new story. She could feel the story almost unwinding itself inside her mind.

It would be set in Paris, the beautiful city of lights. A young American woman, keen for adventure and exploring the city. She spends her days in cafés, drinking all sorts of exotic teas, eating cake and reading all the latest literature and novels the world had to offer. She is so caught up in her own world; time seems to fly past in one big blur. One day she runs into a young man, whose profession is photography. This young man is handsome, charming and very French. He would fall madly in love with this young woman and she with him. Their romance would be beautiful.

Of course the fact that Di had, herself met a young photographer earlier that day, might have had a little to do with the subject, but she was different to the story, Di told herself firmly. She would be working hard to keep writing her novel. She would be much too busy to pursue anything with the devastatingly handsome Sébastien Laroche. Romance was the one thing she absolutely did not need right now.

Later that night, Di began the long, tedious task of unpacking all her belongings. It gave her a chance to order her thoughts and set her priorities straight. It would take time and tears to finish this novel. The first thing she would do tomorrow was walk down to the Parisian library and borrow as many novels as she possibly could. Classics, romance, horror, crime, drama, science and her own personal favourites. They would be her resources. What better place to get her inspiration, than the most famous works literature in the world?

Choosing the books was a harder task than Di had originally anticipated. It was hard not to get carried away and distracted. The smell of the books was familiar and relaxing. There were shelves and shelves of books. Piled one on top of another. Some neatly arranged, others stacked untidily in one great stack. There were works from all over the world. Novels from England such as the works of: Jane Austen, Charles Dickens and the Brönte sisters. There were compilations of myths and legends from India. Tales of magnificent beasts, shining jewels, aromatic spices, and powerful Maharajas.

There were the scientific journals and works of Albert Einstein, Marie Curie, Charles Darwin, Isaac Newton and Galileo Galilei. The works of mathematicians such as Descartes, Pascal, Pythagoras and Leibniz.

Diana absorbed it all in awe. To be in a room filled with so many incredible works of genius, it was inspiring. After hours of deliberation, she chose six books: Charles Dickens' _David Copperfield, _Jane Austen's _Mansfield Park,_ Arthur Conan Doyle's _Sherlock Holmes,_ Rudyard Kipling's _The Jungle book,_ Charles Darwin's _The Origin of Species, _and Galileo Galilei's _Siderius Nuncius (Starry Messenger)._

She was satisfied that she'd made the right choice. Over the next few months, these books would be her guidelines. The Librarian at the counter raised one shaped eyebrow at Di's interesting and varied selection, but didn't comment.

On the walk back to her apartment, Di stopped at a stall to buy the daily Parisian paper, as well as the Manhattan paper. Di always enjoyed reading the paper from back home, reading the gossip columns, especially those relating to her close friends and relatives. No doubt Henry would feature again, the writers always took great amusement in bringing his latest scandals to light. Whatever would it be this week?

… " _Mr Schoonmaker has once again shocked the public with his bold and astonishing relationship revelation. He and Mrs Marielle Carter were seen talking intimately at the opera on Tuesday night. We're all wondering what Mr Schoonmaker will do next? Ever since his marriage to the former Mrs Penelope Schoonmaker, he just hasn't been the same…"_

"Oh Henry," sighed Di. "A married woman, that's so, so stupid. You can't drown your sorrows in alcohol and women…"

Once back in her apartment, Di was still thinking about the column. What was Henry thinking? He should know better, and so should Mrs Carter. Di had only met Marielle once or twice but in her, she had seen similar qualities, as she believed herself to possess. Would Di do the same thing?

_She already had_.

The thought jolted through her brain like lightning. Henry had still been married to Penny when Di had ended their affair. Who was she to discriminate against this woman when Di herself was exactly the same? Women were always blamed. The columnists just joked about Henry's little "affairs". Did they ever take into consideration the woman's feelings? As far as they were concerned, she was just a fleeting attraction.

She could add that into her novel. Women should be just as able to have affairs as men without having their image ripped to shreds by gossip writers who didn't even know them. Women are strong; they stand up for their husbands and children. They spend their entire lives being good and obeying the expectations of society. Well things _will_ change thought Diana, things will change and women will be able to show that strength. With a smile on her face and a new idea growing in her mind she sat down at the typewriter to write once more.


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey everyone! **

**Unfortunately there will be no new chapter this week. The week leading up to Christmas is always super busy and I have just not had enough time to write. **

**Also the next few weeks I will not have access to the internet, so I will be unable to publish. In a few weeks thought, everything will be back to normal and I look forward to continue as per usual. **

**Merry Christmas to everyone! I hope you and your family stays safe and happy. Have a wonderful New Year! **

**Thanks. xx Pheonyxia**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello all you gorgeous people! Kicking off the New Year with a new chapter that I hope you all love. Happy to be back! Enjoy. Xx**

Summer had, and always would be time of fun, sun and refreshing drinks. Elizabeth Cutting had never been the life of summer. Her delicate skin suffered from the hot sun and her temperament was much better suited to the tranquillity of spring.

Summer with a child was a very different experience. Summer and sun, for a child, was paradise. As Lizzie watched Keller and Teddy in the emerald waves off Long Island she felt absolute contentment. There was nothing more wonderful than a happy child. She could see families all around them. Everyone flocked to the beaches to enjoy the few weeks of hot, salty sunshine. The dunes were scattered with striped umbrellas; blue, red, white, yellow and cream. In the shallow waves, young children splashed, completely unaware of everything but those precious moments. Some of the more adventurous, older young men were out in the deeper water. Diving under the crashing waves and laughing loudly whenever a fellow friend came up, gasping for air, half terrified at being crushed and rolled around on the sandy sea floor.

It was just the same as what it had been seven years ago, mused Lizzie. The young men, eager to show off to the flocks of giggling young women. Lizzie could see how the groups of young people arranged themselves. On the outskirts were the younger ones, eager to catch a glimpse of the older "Queens of Society", sitting in a loose group, surrounded by all their closest friends. There were always two. Always best friends, always admired by everyone. Seven years ago, that was Penny… and herself. Everyone of course, was immediately drawn to Penny. Her striking good looks were hard to miss and her bold, confident attitude certainly helped in the situation of meeting new people. Penny was a bright flashing light, calling out and drawing fleeting attention, but Lizzie was a constant beam, softer, but steady.

Light was pouring through the crack under the solid wood door. Hushed voices could be heard from inside, all jumbled together, phrases mixed up.

"Fortune, he could make a fortune…"

"Coach driver…"

"Police… assassination… money."

"William Keller."

"Too late."

Lizzie took a step back I shock. Her first husband's name was not one often spoken these days. Why were they talking about Will? Her mind reeled. She had to get away. Running to the front door, she pulled it open, closed it behind her and leaned heavily on it, it was all she could do not to fall over. She took a deep breath, smoothed her skirt and walked towards the little gazebo in the garden. To anyone observing her, it would appear as of she had everything under control, with not a care in the world.

She felt a drop of water on her face it had started to rain. She looked up to the heavens; the rain was shooting down like hundreds of bullets. Each one glinting like silver in the red evening sun. In the distance she could hear someone calling her name.

"Lizzie! Lizzie… darling… Wake up!"

Lizzie opened her eyes in confusion. She had been dreaming… It was all a dream; they hadn't been talking about Will at all.

She felt salt water on her face. Leaning over her were the figures of Teddy and Keller. As the drops kept falling she still couldn't move. She was still trapped in the dream world. Everything around her seemed blurred and transparent, moving slowly. The figures were fading; the light was fading, as if she was sinking underwater. No! She pulled herself up, pushing through the sea of memories, swimming back to the surface. The light was growing. There were people shouting, but underwater their voices sounded distorted and ugly. The speakers wore the faces of her loved ones but their voices were wrong, so wrong. She froze, sinking once more, but hands grabbed her arms, shaking her to her senses. She was left with no choice but to return.

Faces, so many faces. They were crying, mouths moving with words she didn't understand, cries of distress, calling for help. Fading, the light left again but Lizzie was lost once more in the silence of endless darkness.

"Will she be alright? Is there anything I can do, anything at all?"

These were the first words Lizzie heard when she came to. Her husband sounded almost frantic with worry. Who was he talking to? The second voice sounded familiar but she couldn't quite place it.

"Mr Cutting, I must ask you. Has anything like this ever happened before?"

"No, I … well I'm sure it hasn't. Someone would have told me."

Teddy's voice was unsteady and his actions betrayed bewilderment and anguish. The other man – Lizzie sifted through the thick sludge of memories – it was Doctor Buford. He had been the Doctor present at Keller's birth and Lizzie had seen him several times over the past years.

"Teddy…"

Even to her own ears, Lizzie's voice sounded weak and unused, but Teddy it seemed was deeply attuned to her voice and was by her side in an instant. His hands clasped her own and his eyes searched her face, looking for signs of pain or distress.

"I'm fine Teddy, really I am. What happened, I can't remember? I was sitting on the beach, you and Keller were playing in the waves and… it's gone…"

How could that be so? They were so close. She knew the memories were there, just beyond her reach, but when she closed a hand around them they slipped away like water. Her confusion and panic must have shown on her face because Teddy's hands tightened and he drew her onto his arms, holding her tight and willing her, without words to be calm.

"Oh Lizzie, my Lizzie," he whispered into her hair. "I need you to be brave and stay calm. On the beach, when you, when…"

He choked on the words, nodding at Doctor Buford to continue.

"Mrs Cutting," he began. "We think you may have had some sought of anxiety attack, but the fact that you do not remember any of it doesn't add up. We will have to run some more tests to be absolutely sure."

Lizzie was too shocked to move. She stayed completely still, locked in Teddy's arms.

"Does Keller know?" She asked once the Doctor had packed his bags and left.

"We decided it was best to tell him the truth", whispered Teddy. "I didn't know what had happened to you, I couldn't think straight."

He sounded so lost, thought Lizzie. She wouldn't tell him about the dream. It would only complicate things further. She sighed.

"What happens now?"

"Now?" Whispered Teddy, "Now we wait."


	9. Chapter 9

**Dear readers, I am sorry about the lateness. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please review! Thankyou.**

Penelope's specially made, black, leather boots tapped on the sidewalk as she made her way down to the post office. She had taken advantage of the warm weather to walk, instead of taking the coach. Her cream coloured muslin dress accentuated her dark brown hair and contrasted with her blue eyes.

She was expecting a letter from her dear friend and ex – mother-in-law, Isabelle Schoonmaker. Isabelle Schoonmaker. Isabelle had only been a few years older than Henry when she'd married his father, William Schoonmaker and she and Penny had become best friends instantly.

When Mr. Schoonmaker died, Isabelle had gone abroad to live with her sister and her family. She wrote quite often and Penny looked forward to every letter. Along with her darling boy, Charles, it was the one thing in her life that kept her sane.

Penny opened the door, and walking up to the counter, asked the young clerk if there were any letters for her. There was one, and it was from Isabelle. Penny clutched the letter and set off to a beautiful little café to read it. After ordering a coffee, she opened the letter.

Isabelle wrote that she was well and that she had wonderful news. Her recently married brother's wife had given birth to a little baby girl. Her name was Athena Rae Castone. She was only five weeks old and was the most beautiful baby in the world.

There was another piece of new too, she wrote, news that might shock Penny.

I have been seeing a man, my dear Penny. A man, who in my eyes is absolutely perfect. He is much younger than William, only a few years older than me. He is charming, funny, kind and terribly handsome, and Penny; he has asked me to marry him! He has no idea about the late Mr Schoonmaker and I can't seem to pluck up the courage to tell him… What am I going to do, Penny? I have to tell him I am a widow, and that people may think our marriage inappropriate. I need your advice. Please write back soon.

Your loving friend,

Isabelle Schoonmaker.

"Oh Izzy," laughed Penny. "It's not nearly quite as shocking as you suppose it to be."

Penny rushed home and sat down with rose-scented paper to write a reply.

Dearest Isabelle,

Good new indeed! Your brother and his wife must be very happy.

As for your other news, you needn't be so worried. Tell your young man of your marriage. It had been more than five years since the passing of Mr Schoonmaker, that is more than enough time to mourn and move on. If you are in love, then be married and be happy. You deserve it. I'm always happy to offer advice. I will write a longer letter in due course.

Your dearest friend,

Penelope Schoonmaker.

Satisfied with her answer, Penny left the letter with a servant to be delivered to the post office.

Penny enjoyed giving advice. She supposed the fact that being able to influence people under the guise of advice had a little to do with it. She still always did her best to be truthful in these circumstances though. All the traditional books teaching the ways a lady should behave, such as: The laws Of Being In Well Mannered Circles, by Mrs L A M Breckenridge and Van Kamp's Guide To Housekeeping For Ladies of High Society, were all so old fashioned and terribly out of date. If a young woman was to take advice from those old pages, she could miss out on a good deal of fun in life.

What was really needed, was a new collection, drawing from the experience of modern society girls, or girl… She could be that girl, thought Penny. She already gave advice to friends on subjects such as love and fashion. Why not make it into a job. If she set up an advertisement in the New Yorker, people could write to her with problems and she could give them answers.

Within weeks of Penny's piece in the paper, questions were flooding in from the troubled young women of New York. There were all sorts of queries. Ranging from fashion disasters, un-faithful fiancées, widows in mourning, and all wanting advice from one Penny. It was hard to keep up.

One letter from a particular young woman in New York was quite close to Penny's heart.

Dear Penny,

I am in love with my best friend. When we were younger he payed every attention to me. He always did play around a bit, but it was always assumed that we would be married. Now he has fallen in love with someone else. She is young and completely wrong for him. I'm sure she knows how I feel and still attaches herself to his heart and soul to spite me. I have to win him back and get her out of the picture. I need advice, what should I do?

Yours truly,

Kaelis. V

Penny saw herself in this woman. She had once felt the same way about Henry and Diana Holland. Now she only looked back on the experience with bitterness. Who was Diana to ruin her life before it had even started? Everything would have been perfect. But it wouldn't have been, she admitted to herself. Henry had been her best friend, a fleeting romance, not the love of her life. She had only married him to spite Diana and prove to the world that she could.

Dear Kaelis,

There is nothing worse in life than decisions made in hate or bitterness. If this man really loves someone else, let him go. If you force him choose you, will he love you for it? Ask yourself if it is worth a life of unhappiness, a life of hate and fighting, just to prove to the world, and to him, that you are in charge, that you make your own decisions and everyone else follows them. Would you rather marry him and lose him forever, or stay his faithful friend. Remember, he chose her. Now it's your choice.

Good Luck,

Penny. S

It was out of her hands now. Penny wished she had been given advice before she married Henry. It all came down to one choice. The choice to be on top of the world.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hi everyone! Hope you enjoy the new chapter. I would love any feedback you have. Thanks**

Henry was living in a dream world. He didn't give a damm about anyone other then Marielle and himself. He saw the looks people gave him on the streets but he didn't care. He knew what people were saying; even with Di it hadn't been like this. It had been secret; stolen glances across a crowded room, hurried kisses in hallways and shadowed corners, notes and letters, each line memorised before being destroyed.

With Marielle Tyler, he didn't care if the whole world knew. He would send huge bouquets of flowers, dance with her in the park to the music of a marching band, huge gestures of love and affection so that no one could doubt where his eyes were fixed. There was one subject however which no one seemed to discuss: the fact that even though Marielle was undoubtedly crazy about Henry, she was married, but no one had seen her husband.

Henry found himself wondering about "The Case of the Missing Husband", as he had come to call it, but something always interrupted his thoughts. He would shake off the thoughts but doubts always lingered, whispering in the dark recess of his mind, every minute growing louder and stronger. Soon there was only one solution: he would have to talk to Marielle.

Henry did his best to soften the questioning. He had reserved a table at a little French restaurant. He had the whole room lit with candles, with bouquets of gardenias, giving off the aroma of spring. Soft music was playing; it was the ultimate romantic evening. He arranged someone to pick up and escort Marielle to the restaurant while he finished the final details. He could sense her mild confusion as she walked into the room. He looked up and was left speechless.

She was wearing a tight red dress, embellished with black roses and black lace. She was beautiful, confident and sexy. She did a little shimmy with a secretive smile on her luscious lips.

"You see something you like?" She laughed.

"Yes." He said, very seriously, with no hint of a smile on his face.

She stared into his eyes, the intensity between them a strong as rock. She was different, thought Henry. In all of the women he had met, there was no one like her. The depth of his feeling scared him, when they met he hadn't been wanting anything serious. He was still getting over Di. Getting your heart broken is soul wrenching and time is the only thing that can heal a wound like that. He couldn't let it happen again. This relationship is not serious, he told himself, only a fling, it's not like I'm going to marry her…

"Henry?"

Marielle's soft voice snapped him out of his thoughts. He hurriedly shook it off and led her to their table.

"This is beautiful," whispered Marielle. She turned her eyes to his face. "Is there a special occasion I'm not aware of?"

"No, no special occasion," smiled Henry reassuringly. "I just wanted to take you some place nice, that's all."

"Oh… well it's beautiful Henry, thankyou." If Marielle doubted his words she showed no sign of it.

The dinner was delicious and Henry was very pleased with how the evening had gone, but the hardest part was still to come.

"Marielle," he said nervously, fingering the stem of his wine glass. "There is actually something I wanted to ask you."

"Of course Henry, you can ask me anything."

"Well it's a bit delicate. The thing is, well, it's about your husband…"

Marielle froze, nervously fidgeting with her bracelet, avoiding his gaze.

"It's just, everyone wondering and I feel it's important that I know if…"

"No." Marielle interrupted. "No Henry, I thought you understood. Anyone else would have asked me straight away, but you didn't. I thought that meant that you didn't care about it, that you only cared about me. Well now I can see that I was wrong, I was stupid, and you; you are just. Like. Them."

She picked up her purse, gave him one last, long look and stalked to the doorway, leaving a confused and hurt man in her wake.

Everyday since he'd met Marielle, Henry had woken up, happy to be alive, but not this morning. The dark grey skies seemed to reflect his dark, frustrated mood. He tossed the covers off the bed and stomped to his door.

"What the hell do I have to do around here to get some bloody service?"

His voice echoed off the walls like thunder as the servants scurried around like ant, doing everything in their power to avoid making him even angrier than he already was.

A knock sounded on the door while Henry was eating lunch.

"What," he shouted, slamming his knife down on the tabletop.

"A letter is here for you, Sir."

It was the butler; he opened the door, gave Henry the letter and left as quickly as he could.

"Wait!" Henry called out.

He pulled a thin envelope out of his waistcoat pocket. It was addressed to_ Mrs Marielle Evans._ He knew the use of her married name would annoy her. Inside were a few, short, cold lines:

"_Madam, I write to inform you that I no longer wish to know you. Please do not trouble me again."_

_ H.S_

He handed the note to the butler and requested that he send it.

After finishing his meal, Henry moved to the couch to read the letter. It read as follows:

_To my dearest Henry,_

_I am sorry about last night. The events surrounding my marriage are painful to me and I do not like to talk about them. However, I feel that it is now necessary for you to know what transpired._

_I was born, as you know, in the North of New York state, in a little town called Rochester. When I was nineteen, my parents arranged for me to marry Lewis Evans. He was eight years older than me and was the dullest man I have ever met. About six months into our marriage, I met Alexander Pieterson and he was a Russian sailor. We met on the docks and from the first moment I saw him, I was in love. We had an affair, Lewis never caught us, but two weeks after he'd left, I got sick. I was dizzy, weak and nauseous. It didn't take me long to figure out that I was with child._

_When Lewis found out, he was furious. We hadn't slept together so there was no doubt that the child wasn't his. I soon found out that a lot of people had known of the affair, once one person knew, everyone knew. That's just how fast gossip travels. Lewis had been the only one who hadn't known. This made him even angrier; he thought the whole town was laughing at him when his back was turned. So we moved here, to New York City, but Lewis was ashamed, ashamed of my unborn child, and me, so he left us. At that point I was eight months pregnant. The baby was born suddenly, a full month early; it was a little baby girl. The told me later that she had died, being a month premature, she was too weak to survive._

_So I went home. I've tried to fill the gap in my life but nothing has been easy. Then I met you. You didn't ask questions, you just loved me. When you questioned me last night I froze up. All the painful memories came rushing back and I put up defences._

_Forgive me,_

_All my love_

_Marielle Tyler._

"Oh God, what have I done?"

These were the first words Henry spoke upon finishing the letter. She would receive his note, assuming that he had already read her letter. She would think he was disgusted by her behaviour and continue blaming herself.

He had to do something. God he was a selfish bastard, if he could just think before acting.

It wouldn't be easy recovering his dignity, but Hell knows he would give it everything he had.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello all readers! Enjoy the new chapter. Once again I would love reviews and feedback. Do you love it? Hate it? I would love to know! Thankyou xx**

Lina had never seen such a large breakfast in her entire life. Back home, she had eaten like a bird, usually skipping the first meal of the day altogether. She could only imagine the reaction she would get if she suggested to the Steytons that she wasn't hungry and wouldn't be eating anything.

She soon discovered that food was a big thing in Utah. On account of everyone working so hard, they needed to eat a lot. Meals were a time when everyone sat down together and a time when stories were told, days described and gossip spread.

Lina and Claire had discovered this on their first proper day with the Steytons. They had retired early after dinner, wishing only to sleep through the night undisturbed. They had not counted on being woken at six o'clock the next morning, called down for breakfast before the day properly began. She and Claire had dressed quickly and walked downstairs, still half asleep. The sight that greeted them was a surprise indeed. The food on the enormous, wooden, kitchen table was crammed in every available space. There were eggs. Boiled, fried and poached. There was toast, bacon, sausages, cheese, fruit, nuts, tea, coffee and lemon water. It looked like they were attempting to feed an army.

Mrs Steyton laughed when she saw Lina and Claire's identically stunned expressions. As if she read Lina's mind she said.

"I know it looks like a lot of food but you'll be surprised how quickly it vanishes. We are feeding an entire household after all. There are over thirty of us, what with all the servants and the farm workers. Plus, my boys eat mountains. I swear they have bottomless pits for stomachs; but you must be hungry darlings. Get a plate and help yourself before it's all gone."

Lina just nodded and put a piece of toast, a little bit of cheese and some fruit on her plate.

Lina went out onto the veranda to eat. It was still quite early, and the morning sun staved off the chill in the air. There was a swinging love seat, which was piled with cushions. Lina sat down, pushing off the ground, causing the seat to swing gently back and forwards.

She looked up when the door to the veranda opened and the youngest Steyton walked out. Her name was Missy, Lina recalled and despite being the thirteen years of age, she was treated as the baby of the family. She was always trying to follow in the footsteps of her three elder brothers. Aydmihr was the eldest and was currently studying medicine at a college in New York City, he was twenty-three. Valentino, or Val as his family called him, was working on the farm, he was twenty-one. The youngest brother, Leyton was nineteen and already engaged. Lina had talked to him last night, well, listened really. He talked for half an hour about how wonderful his fiancée was. Lina could hardly get a word in edgewise.

"Hello Missy." She said with a smile. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept like a rock," laughed Missy. "How's the breakfast?"

She looked curiously at Lina's plate.

"Oh but you've hardly eaten anything at all. You can't starve yourself here, we work far too hard for that."

"It's alright, really," stammered Lina.

Changing the subject, she asked what the plan was for the day.

"I'm not sure," sighed Missy. "But…" her face lit up. "You've arrived just at the right time!"

"The right time for what?" Asked Lina.

"Just in time for the Autumn Ball. It's exactly two weeks from tomorrow. My Mum helps organises it every year! You could help too."

"Of course, I'd love to." Laughed Lina.

Now this was something I know how to do, thought Lina. She could add a little Manhattan elegance to this annual Autumn Ball.

That afternoon, Mrs Steyton asked Lina to come into town with her to the Autumn Ball committee meeting. Lina checked in on Claire before she left. Claire loved children and they loved her, so she had volunteered to watch over all the younger children, who's parents were busy working.

"I suppose Missy's told you all about the Autumn Ball by now," said Mrs Steyton. "We would appreciate any help we can get. This time of year everyone is busy or away on holidays to God knows where."

"Well, as I told Missy, I would love to help, Mrs Steyton."

"Oh please, call me Stella," she laughed. "I feel old enough already, what with my boys all grown up, but here we are. This is where we hold the meetings."

Inside was a group of seven women, ranging gin age from twenty to eighty.

"It's Edith's last year on the committee," said Stella, gesturing to the oldest woman in the group. "She's been organising this event for sixty years."

Edith nodded and smiled at Lina.

"Well everyone, this is Miss Lina Broud. She and her sister Claire will be staying with John and I for a few weeks. She had generously agreed to help us make this year's Ball a spectacular success."

Stella introduced everyone to Lina. There was Isabelle, Lula, Anna, Vikki, Elena, Kelsey and Edith. Lina ran through the names in her mind, determined to remember everyone.

"Well, well," said a smooth voice from the doorway. "It seems you ladies have recruited a new lovely member into the committee."

"Oh, it's Wolfe," cried Stella. "I haven't seen you for weeks."

Wolfe was handsome in a boyish kind of way. His dark brown hair was quite short and was messy, like he had just got out of bed. His eyes were a dark blue with rings of green.

"Lina, this is Wolfe Fensworth, he's Lula's son. Wolfe, this is Lina Broud."

"Very pleased to meet you Lina Broud," he grinned, taking her hand and kissing it.

"Hey now, Wolfe, you're embarrassing the poor thing. What are you here for anyway?"

"Sorry Mother, if I had known you didn't want to see me, I wouldn't have come."

He grinned and dodged as Lula swatted at him.

"Okay, okay. I just came to give you your planner. You left it on the kitchen table and I knew you would need it."

He gave the small book to his mother and headed for the door.

"Goodbye ladies. I'm looking forward to seeing the fruits of your labours at the Ball."

His eyes came to rest on Lina.

"It was very nice meeting you Lina, I'll see you again sometime."

He winked and was gone. Lina could feel the blush rising on her cheeks and around the table she could see all the women smiling at her.

"I think he has taken a liking to you Lina," smiled Stella.

"I… oh that's silly," stammered Lina. "He was just being polite, that's all."

"Whatever you say honey," chuckled Lula. "But you just watch, he'll be after you faster than a race-horse."

The remainder of the meeting ran smoothly and there were no more impromptu visits from the bold and handsome, Wolfe Fensworth. Lina focused her mind on the thread of the conversations, but deep in her mind, she was replaying the feeling of the feel of his lips on her hand and wondering if she would feel it again.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hi, it's good to be back and writing again, hope you enjoy the new chapter xx **

Secrets are tricky things. The more you try to hide them, the closer they come to being known by everyone. A wise person will learn a secret, then store it in the pitch-black recess of their memory, as if they never knew it in the first place. A secret learned is best forgotten.

Lizzie was young, barely twenty–four years old, but she had seen and been through a lot in those years and was all the wiser for it. She had fallen in love with a brave, sweet man. Gotten engaged to another. Faked her own death. Endured the death of two husbands, then had re-married and given birth to the child of her first husband while married to the third. If people knew the truth, they would dismiss her as completely and utterly mad. The frightening thing was Lizzie was beginning to think they were right.

The dreams plagued her consciousness almost every night now. It had been two weeks since the incident at the beach and Lizzie was still scared. She was now back in her own home, but living like someone lost to the world. Sometimes she couldn't detect the difference between dream and reality. Her dreams were so vivid, so realistic that she never wanted them to stop. She always dreamed of her past, but details changed. Sometimes she was living in California with Will and their children. In those dreams she was happy. She could feel the warm sun on her face, a once alabaster complexion now the colour of honey. She was always happy smiling and laughing, keeping her life eternally golden.

In other dreams she had never fallen in love with Will. When she met Henry they were meant to be. They had been married so quickly, he complying with his Father's expectations, and she saving her family from bankruptcy. She spent her days preparing for night. The darkness was her friend, enveloping her in a velvet cloak of blackness, hiding her true self from everyone around her. To them she was the Queen of the night, cold and impossibly beautiful. Skin as pale as ice and hair so light it could almost be white. To them she was untouchable.

She often awoke from those dreams with shining tears rolling down her cheeks. Whether from happiness or pain she did not know. Always bearing the stark truth that was her reality.

Teddy saw her feelings as plainly as if they were written across her face. He felt her quietness during the day. Seemingly close but when he reached out to hold her, his fingers clutched at empty space. Every night when she awoke crying, he ached to reach out to comfort her, but something always held him back, an invisible wall that he couldn't break down.

The doctor couldn't find anything wrong with her. After countless tests and examinations they still could give no answers. They told Teddy that it was most likely just delayed shock. An old memory had resurfaced maybe, something she had wished to forget.

Lizzie knew that they were wrong, it was bigger than that. Shock was something she had already experienced much of, and this was different. It wasn't just the dreams, she sometimes just froze, trapped in an invisible grip, too afraid to move, afraid of what could happen. She tried to talk herself out of it. What could possibly go wrong? No one could hurt her now. Teddy saw this as well. Her still form, silent and unmoving, as if struggling with some stubborn voice inside her head.

The real danger always comes from within. Dreams are only dreams. Stories made up to move our darkest fears and desires. Only the dreamer can make them reality. Lizzie was the dreamer, unwillingly and uncertainly making her worst nightmares come true.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw movement. She turned, her muslin skirt brushing the floor as she moved. She gasped out loud. A couple were standing with their backs to her. They were on a street, just outside a flower shop. They were holding hands, quickly walking towards the train station. The woman dropped something on the sidewalk and bent sown to pick it up. She was beautiful, laughter clear in her features, a smile on her pink lips. She looked suddenly to her left, her expression changed and she hurriedly pulled her hat closer over her face. She clasped the man's hand, leaned forwards and whispered something in his ear. He turned to the side, looking for the person who had caused her such distress.

They began walking faster then. The look of someone being hunted in their stride and expressions. They had seen something that terrified them more than anything else in the entire world.

Angry voices shouted. The couple only walked faster, then, a gunshot rang out. The man clutched his chest and fell against the woman. A bullet had hit in his back and flown all the way through his body, out the other side. The woman looked down, a red spot was spreading on the snow-white muslin of her dress. A spot of blood in a patch of snow.

Together they sank to the ground. Not seeing anything but each other. The world was cut off to them, those precious moments were all they had before men with guns pulled the woman away. In their minds, the men were heroes. Saving the woman from death and terror. In her mind, they were monsters; ripping her soul in two and leaving one part dead, slumped on the sidewalk, never to rise again.

This was the dream. Over and over again it pierced through Lizzie's sleep. Shattering her thoughts and leaving her with a sense of confusion. It wasn't until she had fully woken up that she realised it was real, all of it was real. How could she forget?

She felt devastated. Each time it took her longer to remember the truth. Slowly but surely she was slipping away. Slipping away from Teddy, from Keller and from reality.


End file.
